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Chapter 162

The final bell rang, signaling the end of another school week. I was sleeping peacefully, completely out cold at my desk, arms folded like a makeshift pillow. The classroom noise faded into the background—none of it reached .

"Jake... Jake, wake up," Pippa’s voice ca gently as she nudged my shoulder.

I groaned, blinking groggily as her face ca into view, lit up by a mischievous smile. "School’s over. Unless you’re planning on sleeping through the weekend."

"Tempting," I muttered, sitting up and stretching.

Just then, Cher and Regina stepped into the room, their energy imdiately changing the atmosphere.

Carly and Freddie approached from the front row, Carly holding a half-empty water bottle and Freddie juggling his books.

"Hey sleepyhead," Carly grinned.

"I can’t believe you will not go to my party," Cher said, a little indignant.

I rolled my eyes. "I told you, Paige and I have a wedding to go today. And your real party is only on Sunday, which I will attend—and tomorrow, I’ll be there too."

"Still," she huffed, crossing her arms. "You’ll miss the pre-pre-party tonight."

Cher added with a pout, "You went to all of Regina’s, and there were even surprises."

"Which I’ll do for you too," I said, sitting on the desk and pulling Cher and Regina gently by the waist, resting my head on Cher’s shoulder.

She lit up, but then feigned a pout again. "That’s not fair, Regina got all the better ends."

"That’s because I’m Jake’s favorite," Regina replied with a smirk, grabbing my head and moving it onto her shoulder as she ran her fingers through my hair.

"No way," Cher retorted, pulling my head back toward her again.

At one point, both of them ended up leaning close, their arms half around in playful competition. They even embraced my head gently against their up fronts, making the mont feel like so absurd royal pillow war.

Pippa coughed pointedly, trying to break the mont.

Both girls stopped

"Heyy, why do you need to be a killjoy?" I exclaid toward Pippa, receiving a glare in return.

I raised both hands in peace, lifting my hands away from Cher and Regina’s waists. "I’m the innocent one here."

Pippa crossed her arms and raised a brow. "You’re about as innocent as a fox in a chicken coop."

That made Cher and Regina chuckle, though they tried to hide it.

I laughed hard. "That is a good analogy. Because I’m like a cute little fox, while these two are like chickens," I said, grinning.

Both Regina and Cher jabbed in unison, making flinch and laugh even more.

"So, is everyone coming tonight?" Cher asked, glancing around.

There were nods and murmurs of agreent all around.

Even Pippa chid in, "Yeah, I’ll be there."

Sam leaned in with a sly smile. "So, can we expect to et a new chick tomorrow?" she asked teasing as she looked straight at .

She was obviously referring to the wedding Paige and I were attending tonight.

"Totally," agreed Carly.

"Heyy!!" I exclaid—but probably, just probably, having Cher and Regina in my embrace didn’t help my case in my rightful indignation.

---

Later that day, I headed to the house in Santa Monica for lunch. The salty breeze from the coast greeted as I stepped inside.

"Hello, Michelle," I called out as I passed the kitchen. Our chef waved without looking up from whatever gourt magic she was stirring.

Then I spotted Paige already seated at the kitchen table, sipping juice, reading so notes, and eating.

"You already here, Paige?" I asked, surprised. "You study way farther than ."

Paige replied, "I left early because I have to go to the beauty salon. Aunt Judith is already there."

"A few minutes won’t make a difference..." I spoke. "And I don’t even know why you were invited," I added playfully.

Paige threw a piece of bread at .

"Look at her, Michelle. Paige is throwing food at !" I exclaid.

"Paige," Michelle said sternly from the stove, "throw the spoon or the saltshaker."

"Heyy," I made the sa expression for the third ti today.

"And you, behave in the kitchen, Jake, or I might make your beef well-done," Michelle said jokingly

"How could you say sothing so outrageous, Michelle? The cow would’ve died in vain if you do that," I argued.

"I like it blue, rare, or dium rare. Anything else is an insult to premium at."

Michelle turned from the stove and gave a look

After a few more minutes, she served a plate. "Here, filet mignon au fromage, with tiny almond bits on top. dium-rare," she said with a touch of pride.

"This is perfect," I said, savoring the first bite of lunch.

---

As night fell, we were all dressed and ready to go. Paige, Mom, and I stood near the front entrance of the house, looking like the cover of so formal fashion magazine.

Paige was stunning in a dark erald gown, her hair styled in perfect waves. Mom—Judith—wore an elegant navy-blue dress with silver accents, classy and refined.

I straightened the cuffs of my suit, checked my tie one last ti in the hallway mirror, and turned to them. "Ready?"

Mitchell and Cam stood nearby as well, both looking sharp in tailored tuxedos. Cam had chosen a floral bow tie that added his usual flair, while Mitchell kept it classic and sleek.

"I still think it’s a bad idea your mother coming to your dad’s wedding," Cam said, visibly foreseeing a disaster.

"Mitch, I need to agree with Cam on this one," Mom said to Mitchell, her tone cautious but honest.

"It will be fine," Mitchell said, though he didn’t entirely believe it himself.

"What are you praying for?" asked Paige strangely, glancing at .

"I’m open to any show," I replied. "Just praying that my family isn’t involved in any of them."

------

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